


Finding God In a Glory Hole

by cathedralvelvet



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Degradation, F/M, Glory Hole, Nuns, Outer God, Pre-Relationship, Prostitution, Some pretty mild misogyny roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 02:59:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16109381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathedralvelvet/pseuds/cathedralvelvet
Summary: A nun secretly dedicated to an outer god that feeds on sexual pleasure sneaks out of the monastery to worship it the best way she knows how: with a shift at the local glory hole.The first in what will probably be a series of short stories involving these characters.





	Finding God In a Glory Hole

Ievina hung her piece of contraband on its makeshift peg: a nail, driven shallowly enough into the wall that, in a pinch, she could tug it free by hand and hide it somewhere the high abbot and the Sisters working beneath him might not look. The contraband itself, Ievina never left out in the open, no matter the circumstance. An earthly relic of mortal vanity, the abbot would call it, and then one or another of his nuns would come up with some suitable punishment. Likely Siara, whose mind, Ievina had learned, seemed God-formed for just such tasks.

It was a fragment of mirror, only as wide as her wrist and a little bit longer than her hand — a piece of trash found near a dumpster outside the monastery walls. One of the outdwellers had looked at Ievina strangely when she picked it up, some weeks ago, but to her, glinting brightly as it managed to reflect the moon overhead — which was rarely in view itself, in the base level of the city — it had seemed a treasure. That feeling had only intensified when she brought it back into the monastery with her, where being seen with it in hand, or anywhere in her room, would undoubtedly provoke the anger of her betters.

With it hanging on her wall, Ievina examined herself. Her white tunic and black scapular were neat, straight, and free of blemish, and her white cowl hid her dark brown hair from view. The black veil she wore above that was askew, and she was careful to tug that into place with a few corrective motions. Ievina moved to the small dresser beside her bed. Like the walls and desk, the wood was smoothed with age, and only regular enchantments from sympathetic outdwellers with a gift for the arcane kept the drawers sliding in and out as smoothly as they did. In the topmost drawer, between a pair of spare tunics, Ievina found a similarly timeworn Biblia, its spine and covers thick with runes branded into the leather. Many of the runes overlapped with one another like scales, and some seemed fresher than others.

Each, Ievina knew, signified a previous owner passing the Biblia on to a younger worshiper, typically in their family, near the end of their own life. Each rune carried a magical, distinctly holy signature, and to one with the Sight — like Ievina, and most other Sisters at the monastery — each of the thickly overlapping runes would glow brightly. The book itself, covered in them, would seem to glow like a little sun.

Ievina took the book up in her hands and flipped through its pages, starting from the back. Each looked intact and whole, and dense with text, save for the margins, which were themselves dense with written annotations, some in languages that Ievina could merely identify, not read. She flipped further forward, careful not to tear any of the gossamer-thin pages. Then, as she reached a specific page toward the front of the book, she saw it: a small rectangular alcove, cut deep into the book’s pages toward the back. Admiring the handiwork of whatever adept had wrought this trick in her God’s service, Ievina flipped a page forward. No alcove. She flipped back a page, and there it was again. Within the alcove, a stick of what looked like black chalk rested, small and innocuous.

In spite of her feelings, the mirror was a little, trifling matter. If she was caught with this on her person, by someone with the Sight, it would likely mean her eventual death, though most who saw it would simply turn and run out of sheer horror. The Biblia — the only thing she had brought into the monastery with her, and which she had claimed as a family heirloom given to her by her father before his death — served as a container and a mask for the stick she now held in her hands.

Quickly — even as late as it was, Ievina couldn’t know if one of the Sisters might be near, and looking in this cell’s direction — she went to work. She took the chalk and, walking back to the mirror, ran it across each of her lips with a practiced motion. Silently offering a prayer to her God, Ievina rubbed her lips together, then drew a series of quick lines, decorating her eyes. Another line, she drew from the center of her lower lip straight down to her throat, all the way down to her collarbone. She drew quick spirals on each of her palms, passing the chalk from hand to hand as she did so, then, quickly, she touched the tip of the chalk — which was not chalk, in truth — to each of her fingernails.

After a moment’s pressure, the black of the chalk seemed to spread into her fingernails, like coloring spilled into clear water. When each of her finger- and thumbnails were so anointed, Ievina was quick to replace the stick in its alcove, clap the book shut, and slide it back into its place, closing the drawer as soon as she had done so. A moment later, she lifted the scrap of mirror from its nail peg and, after pulling the nail free, she moved to her bed and slid it into the bed itself through a cut she had made directly behind one of the mattress handles.

Ievina could already feel the terror of what she was about to do pumping through her veins like fire. Or, perhaps, like poison, for she knew that the concentrated blood of her God, even in the form of the not-chalk she had just used to draw on her body, could be fatal in too great an amount. Doing this for as long as she had had helped her to build up a tolerance for the substance, but no human could ever be immune. Only one chosen directly by her God might approach that, and such a scenario could only be a distant fantasy for Ievina, operating in secret in a city as large as this one. Still, she could feel it, and the terror, screaming through her, barely contained.

She left her room, opening and closing the door with as much care and speed as she could manage. It was midnight, and now, finally, the rest of the monastery had to have retired for the night. Even if one of the other Sisters were out this late, they could never carry the tale to the abbot or any of his hand-picked assistants, for doing so would mean revealing that they, in turn, had broken curfew. Still, it was always possible that one of the elder Sisters, or the abbot, might have some reason to venture to the library or the central courtyard. She could always, always be caught. Perversely, the danger stoked a thrill within Ievina, one that often rose within her as she crept out of the monastery in the dead of night. Still, she took a care not to act incautiously.

There was no security in the monastery or its entrance, no recording devices or even a simple means of logging how many came or went. The monastery was a old place with old habits and old standards, and anyone who proposed that such technology might be desirable or necessary, when the honesty of the devout living there ought to have been enough to ensure their obedience to the curfew, would have been shouted down in an instant, if not cast out of the monastery walls entirely. So once Ievina reached the entrance, and passed beyond it, she was free and safe. The magic drawn in blood, in preparation for the offering she would soon make to her God, might be detected by one with the sight, but none would care, though some might be curious. Such curiosity had helped Ievina make contact around the city with people who were, if not like-minded or sympathetic, at least potentially useful.

From the monastery, it wasn’t a long walk to a transportation node on the same wavelength as her destination. Neon lights and magical torchlight from the lampposts studding the sidewalk nearby reflected off the tall cylinder of polished metal jutting out of the pavement. She walked into the door built into it, and from there it was as simple as sliding her hand into the old-school scanner built into the wall in front of her. It flashed a few times as a bar of light passed up and down behind the glass, checking once, twice, three times: did she have six fingers, or five? Was her bone structure human, within a certain level of variance, or, say, elven? Then, having determined the type of magical transportation least likely to incinerate her or reduce her to a fine paste upon reaching her destination, the cylinder around her hummed for a moment, then did its job.

When she walked out of the tube’s counterpart, half a city and several sequential jumps away, Ievina could spot her destination without too much trouble almost immediately. While most of this district was gaudily lit with red neon or attention grabbing magical light shows, this one announced itself with a black wooden sign engraved with glowing red script, hanging from a wrought iron post just above the doorway. It wasn’t precisely unique in its understated nature, but it still stood out when viewed amid the rest of this end of the district.

Walking into the nearby alley, Ievina could feel the markings she had made on her skin tingling. She smiled faintly, but ignored the sudden flare of desire that followed, at least for now. The blood could feel what was happening inside the building, a precursor to the offering that was coming. Her God had never spoken to her, but it was not exactly shy about making its desires known, and here, so close to tonight’s offering, Ievina knew them too. Shared them, even.

Circling around to the back door, Ievina knocked in a now-familiar pattern, and after a moment, she heard a bolt sliding out of place, and the door opened inward. The tired-looking woman in the red and gray uniform of the Lantern District Guard met her eyes, barely taking note of the markings there. “Here again so soon, Sister?” she asked, and even with the curious amusement plain in her voice, Lyra still sounded exhausted.

“You know how it is,” Ievina said, smiling as she passed through the doorway and closed it behind her. Lyra was already leaning against the wall again, looking a little like it was the only thing keeping her standing. “I go back to all those books and dust and repressed old maids, and it just gets me so hot, I can’t stand it,” she continued dryly, looking sidelong at the guardswoman. “Do I need to drag you home once we close for the night? You look like you’re about to die.”

“Maybe. The death part, I mean,” Lyra added, smiling. She ran a gloved hand through her pixie cut, the blonde hair looking strange in the scarlet light of the lantern mounted on the wall above the doorway. “I’ll be fine. I’m surprised you’re not already running upstairs. You’re usually in such a hurry.” She almost, but didn’t quite, make it sound like an insult.

“I worry,” Ievina said — then, just to keep from killing the mood, she raised a hand and brought her thumb and forefinger close together. “This much. A smidge.”

Lyra looked up from the panel of paper-thin glass in her hand, its surface dancing with more than a dozen moving image feeds too small for Ievina to really see from a distance. She knew that it was surveillance footage from the rooms above, though. Nothing was recorded, she’d been told; part of Lyra’s job was to make sure no one was being murdered or, more likely, abused — at least, not in rooms not dedicated to that kind of play. “I’m touched,” Lyra said, sounding bored, but the tired smile on her face suggested that Ievina’s concern meant something to her. At least a smidge, Ievina thought.

Then, for a moment, she stopped thinking, as the blonde’s next words registered. “I mean, if you wanted to drag me home and come inside for a drink or two, that would be okay. You know. As — thanks.” Lyra returned to looking at the security feed on the pane in her hand.

Panic, not completely dissimilar to the fear she had felt earlier while sneaking out of the monastery, gripped Ievina’s heart. At the same time, the markings on her tingled with anticipation, or perhaps approval. It was hard to read her God, sometimes. They were, she knew, reacting to the desire in her own blood. “Um,” she said lamely, knowing that her face was beet red.

“Uh, you don’t have to — I mean, maybe I shouldn’t have asked?” The panel was forgotten again in Lyra’s hand as she looked, nervousness naked on her face, at Ievina. “Look, it’s cool, forget…”

“N-no, that’s not —” The markings on Ievina’s skin flared almost painfully, and she felt incapable of speaking for a moment. Her God’s desire was flowing into her, this close to where she would make her offering, and she knew she had to put this off. “Um, I’ll — let’s talk about this — after? Later?” She pressed her lips together, unable to meet Lyra’s eyes, then turned and began to mount the stairs. “I’ll — we’ll talk? Yeah.” She started to walk up the staircase faster, resisting the urge to slam her head against the wall. Wouldn’t want to smudge the markings on her face, though a mild concussion might not be so unwelcome right now.

As she entered the building proper, Ievina felt the markings flare again, and repressed a moan. She needed to hurry.

* * * * *

When the door closed behind her, Ievina sank to her knees almost immediately, even though the currently dim red light overhead hadn’t signaled the arrival of her first customer of the night. The desire had mounted in her to the point where her legs had been shaking when she finally finished talking to the madame, and it had taken everything she had not to run to the block that had been assigned to her, dignity be damned. Her panties were soaked.

She took a shuddering breath, leaning against the wall, and that almost worsened matters. The staff here cleaned all of the rooms during the day, but she could still smell the telltale scent of desire, and men, and seed through the carefully wrought and spell-cushioned hole in the wall near her face. Her markings surged, bringing tears to her eyes that she blinked away. “Soon,” she muttered, and the divine pressure eased up, if only a little.

After taking another moment to get herself together, Ievina made quick work of disrobing, taking her cowl and veil off, then doing the same with the rest of her habit. Beneath — because even Sister Siara, in all her sadistic paranoia, would never dream of making a Sister disrobe entirely — Ievina wore a skimpy white bodice that barely contained her breasts, with black strings holding the front and back pieces together. That, for the time being, she kept on.

Her habit, she slid into a clear sack hanging from a peg; she drew its drawstrings tight, not wanting the inevitable smell of sex to settle into her clothes. The crucifix of black steel hanging from a delicate chain around her neck, she kept in place. No one would see it, here, but keeping it on, truth be told, really did get her a little hot. Not that the bonfire already roaring within her needed further stoking.

As if on cue, the light above brightened, bathing the previously dim room in scarlet, the only shadows with any real shape to them cast by Ievina herself and the sack her clothes. Long, narrow straps hanging from the ceiling all around the room, however, left thin, bar-like shadows all along the walls. It almost made Ievina feel like she was in a real cell. Just one more little thing that, over the several weeks that she had spent visiting this place almost nightly, had begun to feed into Ievina’s desires.

A moment after the light came on, her first customer made himself known. A thick, modestly long cock pushed through the hole in the wall directly across from the doorway, and a panel directly above it displayed a figure on its knees, its face against the wall. Customers were free to simply tell Ievina or the others working here what they preferred, but many wanted as much anonymity, and as little personal contact, as possible — at least, contact other than the obvious.

Ievina stepped over after giving the sack’s drawstring an extra tug to get it as tight as possible, and sank once again to her knees. She let out a light giggle without meaning to, and smirked when the dark-skinned shaft twitched in obvious response. Her marks flared, and, finally — with her offering finally within a breath’s distance — her tattoos gave the same surge of pain mingled with pleasure. One above her cunt, the other on her back at waist level, and the last just above her breasts.

She let out a panting moan as her lips drew closer to the cock in front of her, and then — her God roaring in anticipation through the marks on her skin and soul — Ievina leaned forward and pressed a hot kiss to its tip.

Hearing a gasp on the other side of the wall, Ievina was spurred forward. She spread her lips wider as she leaned further forward, taking the bulbous head of the dick before her into her mouth. If it had been possible to do so with her lips sealed as tight as they were around the cock, Ievina would have smiled at the pleased groan that followed; as it was, she let her customer know she was listening, giving the tip a playful lick with a dart of her tongue.

“Shit, that’s good,” the man muttered, and Ievina, without thinking, brought one of her hands to her cunt and began to play with her clit. Gently, for now, but hearing the positive reinforcement made her want to reward herself. Not that she wasn’t already being rewarded.

The instant Ievina had wrapped her lips around the cock in question, the mark she had painted on her lips had begun to do its work, stimulating her nerves and sending pleasure directly to Ievina’s brain on pathways she knew had been strengthened and altered over the weeks she had spent making these offerings to her God. Nothing could have matched it, that divinely supplied pleasure, that corrupt gift from the entity she had made contact with months ago, changing the course of her life in ways that Ievina could never have imagined before. Rubbing her clit, though, was a close second, and it helped that the moment she did so, the tattoo directly above it began to spark with pleasure itself, encouraging her.

She took more of the cock into her mouth, letting inches fill her mouth more and more as she lubricated the hot shaft with her own saliva. The heat of it, the thickness — it was easy to lose herself just in taking note of the texture and taste of the skin itself. Every cock had something for Ievina, something she could luxuriate in as she went to work. And work she did, bringing her lips closer and closer to the cock’s base. The structure of the wall helped, growing thinner within about a foot of the hole, without losing any of its structural strength. More magic, of course.

The man groaned again as she massaged the underside of his shaft with her tongue, her head bobbing forward and back with mounting intensity. Ievina breathed erratically through her nose, moaning helplessly. The mark on her lips was burning with impossible pleasure that piped directly to her mind and drove her to go further and further in the service of her God. Her God, and the pulsing hot dick in her mouth.

“Gnnh, don’t fucking stop, h-holy shit…” Without warning, the man pulled back slightly from the wall, making Ievina bump her nose against it, though the magic wrought into it cushioned the blow. A split second later, though, he thrust forward again, and soon there was a desperate, rough rhythm to his movements. Ievina moaned helplessly, and the mark on her lips hummed in response, setting up a feedback loop that began to build in intensity as she continued to work the cock with her lips and tongue.

Ievina felt something building, within and without her, and knew that her God was hotly anticipating the offering she was about to take. Almost at the same time, the thrusting of the man on the other side of the wall reached a new, faster tempo, and Ievina knew that he was getting close. Bringing her face as flush with the wall as she could manage, Ievina stopped bobbing her head in counter time with the man’s vigorous movements, instead going still to ensure that, unless the man was so cruel as to pull away from the wall entirely before cumming, she would catch his seed. It did, on occasion, happen, and she was always crushed when it did.

But, as if he was reading her thoughts, or her sudden stillness had told him everything he needed to know, the man fucking her mouth said, voice shaking a little, “You’d better, b-better catch it all. I want you to swallow all of it. F-fuck!”

And then he came.

Stars erupted behind Ievina’s eyes as, the instant the man’s cum passed between her lips, her God rushed from the gateway she had made in her soul to accept her offering. Impossible, mind-breaking pleasure exploded in her skull. She groaned uncontrollably, her eyelids fluttering as spurt after spurt filled her mouth and triggered her God’s pleasure, which in turn flooded her veins, making her hips buck and her hand, until then working her clit with abandon, go utterly still.

Ievina let out a despairing little moan when the man began to pull back, and remembered only an instant before his cock head popped free from her mouth to be sure not to lose any of his cum, his gift for her. Without hesitation, she swallowed it all at once. A moment later, Ievina brought her hand up from her cunt to wipe a bit that had leaked out of her mouth up with one finger, then slipped it into her mouth, sucking it away. Her lips sparked a little with that pleasure, but it wasn’t nearly as intense as what had resulted from the man cumming directly into her mouth.

She heard the man breathing raggedly for a few moments, the sounds coming through the hole suggesting that he had fallen forward to lean against the wall. Then, she heard him laugh. “Shit. Holy shit. You’re, you’re something else.” He took a deep breath. “Fuck. I’m definitely coming again.” He laughed a moment later, perhaps recognizing his own pun, then walked away to the side, passing out of view. She heard a telltale series of beeps as he tapped at a panel on his own end, then heard him reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. A moment later, a machine beneath the panel whirred as he slid a series of bills into a slot on his end, and a moment later, the other end of the machine fed those bills into a wide but narrow-mouthed transparent bin. “Yeah, uh…this was good. Uh, thanks,” the man said awkwardly. Ievina heard footsteps, and then the door in his room opened and closed. A moment later, the light above Ievina dimmed again.

Ievina cared about the money, but only as a distant, abstract thing to tend to in the future. ~She wasn’t here for the money, any more than she was staying in the monastery for her own spiritual enrichment. Her biggest reason for taking note of it from time to time was to prevent herself from outright forgetting to retrieve it as she had after a session during her first week working here. She couldn’t exactly avoid coming to the attention of the madame — Ievina, whether as some sort of kink, or because she really was one, came to a brothel in a nun’s habit, even on nights when she only worked in one of the glory hole booths. She couldn’t imagine what the madame thought of her beyond that, but she didn’t want to give her the additional impression that she was some sort of lackwit, or else so addicted to what she was doing here that she would outright leave her hard-earned pay behind.

Thinking of the madame brought Lyra to mind, and when the scarlet light erupted into brightness again, Ievina was glad to have something distract her from the sudden anxiety that had seized her.

This time, a moment after the room lit up, a cock slid in through the hole on Ievina’s right. This one had several inches on her first customer of the night, but was just as thick. Slightly pale, it was fully erect, and Ievina helplessly licked her upper lip as she shimmied closer to it on her knees.

This time, a featureless mask appeared on the panel above the hole in the wall — and a moment later, she knew why. “Well, what’s taking you so long? You’re supposed to be a whore, why aren’t you doing your job yet?” The voice coming from the other side of the wall seemed somewhat older than the young man who had been her first customer for the night, and Ievina felt nearly certain that the man on the other side of the wall was in his thirties.

Ievina couldn’t be sure whether she was right about what the man truly wanted from her, but when she spoke, she let her voice tremble a bit. “I’m — you haven’t told me what you want, yet, sir?” she asked, putting as much uncertainty and nervousness as she could into her voice.

“Dumb slut,” the man said a moment later. “Just suck my cock, alright? I didn’t think I was going to have to tell one of you people how this works.”

Her breath hitching, Ievina bit her lower lip for a moment. She was surer than she had been about what this particular customer wanted here, other than the basics. “I’m, I’m sorry, sir!” she stammered out a moment later, bringing her face closer to the thick cock waiting for her. It took willpower, but she kept herself from jumping into things for another moment.

A second passed, and then she heard a fist slam into the wall far overhead. “Don’t fucking apologize, just fucking do it!”

Obeying orders, Ievina smiled in the moment she had before she was close enough to wrap her mouth around the cock in front of her. She only just barely heard the inward rush of breath on the other side of the wall as the man who had been berating her only a moment earlier gasped at the feel of her mouth around him. Ievina spared little time before she took more than just his thick head into her mouth, pushing forward to accept a few more inches. Her lips twinged slightly with divine pleasure, and she knew why — precum had been flowing from the man’s tip for some time, and she could taste it on her tongue. It took everything she had to keep from massaging his length with her tongue the way she had the other man’s, but Ievina knew that if she was right about this man, it was probably best to take things a step at a time.

Even as the thought passed through her mind, the man pulled his cock out of her mouth without warning, making her gasp for breath with the suddenness of the movement. “Have you just not fucking done this before? This isn’t rocket science, I don’t know why you’re having so much goddamn trouble.”

Ievina played up her coughing for several more seconds than necessary, sputtering a bit. “I’m sorry,” she said, and sounded like she was on the verge of weeping. “I’m, I’m trying!”

“Trying isn’t fucking good enough! I could probably pull a girl off the street who would suck a cock better than you would? Is that what you want? I’ll walk right out of here, it’s not like you’ve given me a reason to stay.”

At this point, there was no doubt in Ievina’s mind about what this man was about, and she did her best to sound panicked, shaking her head rapidly even though she knew the man couldn’t see it. “No! No, no no no, please, don’t leave! Please let me try again!” She threw herself into the role of a girl with little confidence or experience, a girl that this man could bring to the verge of tears even as he extracted a more concrete form of satisfaction from her. It wasn’t a role that came naturally to Ievina, but after having worked here for several weeks, she was at least passingly familiar with this kind of man. A part of her even enjoyed it for what it was, in a strange way that wasn’t quite familiar to her yet.

“Oh, so you actually want to do your job right now? Is that right?” The man made as if to stick himself back through the hole again; Ievina could see his hand slowly working at his cock, and a wedding band on his ring finger. Just as quickly, though, he pulled away, before Ievina could even bring her mouth to his tip. “Beg me to let you try again.”

“W-what?” she said, doing her best to sound incredulous through the smile spreading across her face. “I, I already asked, p-please —”

“Or I can just fucking leave, and tell your boss on the way out that you don’t know your way around a cock!” he roared, his hand moving faster. “Beg, bitch!”

“P, please, please don’t!” Ievina actually sniffled, shaking her head desperately. “I, please let me try again, sir! I promise, I, I’ll do better this time! Please!” The last word came out as nearly a wail. Ievina brought her trembling lips close to the hole, opening wide.

“You get one chance,” the man said, pushing his still-hard cock — Ievina wasn’t sure if his hand had kept him hard, or if the situation they were in was enough in and of itself — through the hole and directly into her waiting mouth. “And use some fucking tongue this time, hell.”

Ievina went to work immediately, barely pulling back at all as the man pushed the entirety of his length through the hole. She set herself to taking all of him into her mouth, but it was clear just from looking at him that that wouldn’t be possible. Being sure to stimulate him with her tongue, she spared little time in trying to take his head into her throat. It would have been easier in a different setting, with that hand of his gripping her hair and pulling her down onto his cock, forcing his way past her throat. Instead, everything was dependent on her, and she gagged messily over the course of several seconds as she tried with everything she had to take all of him.

“Fuck, you’re slobbering like a fucking animal. Can you even hear yourself?” She heard him stifle a groan as she came particularly close to taking him further. “I don’t know how the hell you haven’t been tossed out on your ass yet.”

She didn’t pause in her efforts — she felt like she was nearly there — but she made a hurt whimpering noise in the back of her throat that was nearly a sob, and immediately got results: the man thrusted, seemingly involuntarily, and the slight bit of forward pressure helped her take his cock in full. She throated his full length in moments, pushing forward until her lips were near his base and her nose was pressed flush with the wall.

“Fuck, just stay like that and I’ll handle this shit myself,” the man said disgustedly, and then he was fucking her mouth, face-fucking her in earnest, moving with sure, even thrusts that threatened to rock Ievina’s face back and forth with their sheer force, the only thing saving her being the way she was leaning against the wall and pressing her face to the hole as closely as possible. “Hah, I shouldn’t be surprised that the only thing you’re actually good at here is doing nothing. Christ.”

Ievina whined helplessly as the man — the married man, whose ring she had spotted through the hole, and that shouldn’t have made this hotter, but it did, just like the cross hanging between her breasts — fucked her face with ruthless abandon. Every so often she gagged, and it wasn’t entirely for show; she had gotten better at suppressing her gag reflex in her time here, but it hadn’t gone away entirely. Ievina brought her knees further apart, beginning to rub herself again, and as she felt that strange sensation again — the one that meant the time was coming, that the offering would happen, soon, that her God would bring her bliss better than anything in the world — she also felt herself getting close.

“Fuck, I think I’ll just get off on your face,” the man said, his voice jittery with the proximity of his own orgasm. “Pull back,” he said, but he hardly needed to, as Ievina began to pull away, the rough pain of having his cock pull out of her throat so suddenly making her hack and sputter for a brief, helpless moment. But then — “Open your fucking mouth and close your eyes.”

The command was impossible to ignore, with Ievina’s mind already trembling with the closeness of her God. She opened her mouth wide, bringing it within about a foot of the hole and closing her eyes in preparation for what she knew was coming.

In the instant that the first rope of cum splashed across her face, Ievina moaned. She couldn’t help it. The marks beneath her eyes, on her chin, and on her lips all sang with the pleasure of her God, and that alien sensation only redoubled as another spurt of cum streaked across her face, and then another, and a fourth. Some entered her mouth, and that brought a more intense pleasure, but even the cum on her face brought her closer, and closer —

One last blast of cum — she couldn’t imagine how long the man had been saving up — hit her lips and chin, some landing on her tongue, and Ievina cried out as she climaxed.

The daze that followed — pleasure from her many marks, pleasure from her cunt — lasted some moments. When Ievina felt aware of herself again, she was licking the small amount of cum on the head of the man’s cock away, occasionally gathering up streaks of his seed from her face with her fingers and licking that away as well. Every bit of cum made her lips spark with the same divine pleasure as before. “Fuck, you’re the best I’ve ever had here. Jesus,” the man said, his cruel facade fading away now that the scene they had been playing out was over. “Damn, I’d give you a mint if I could. Really, that was fucking amazing.”

Ievina made herself pull away from his cock after a few more moments, swallowing. “I live to serve,” she said with utter sincerity, though the man couldn’t have imagined what she really meant.

The man said something else, some kind of compliment, but Ievina barely noticed, nor when bill after bill of cash worked its way through the machine and into the bin, or even when he said his last word and left his booth. She was still dizzy with pleasure and barely able to string two thoughts together.

She looked at the clock on the panel above her. She hadn’t even been here for an hour yet. Even after weeks of this, it still shocked her how much could happen in so little time. She still had hours. Hours of cock, and pleasure, and oneness with the God she loved to serve.

There was still Lyra, and getting back into the monastery before morning, but right now, all Ievina felt was eagerness for more. Through the marks on her skin, she could feel her God agreeing.

**Author's Note:**

> The best way to track me is to follow my [tumblr](https://cathedralvelvet.tumblr.com). I'll do polls and such there, too, once I get enough people to make it work.


End file.
